


One Should Never Talk to Strangers

by lifehappenedtome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: FYSL Holiday Hellatus Fanwork Exchange, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Sam is underage but nothing really happens between them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifehappenedtome/pseuds/lifehappenedtome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rainy Saturday, Sam is bored and decides to pass his time at the library. He meets a stranger on the way whom he finds both interesting and a little weird. They spend a day together but after that, Sam never hears from him again until a sudden event brings them back together in a way he hadn't imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Should Never Talk to Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FYSL Winter Exchange.
> 
> Title and Prompt: One should never talk to strangers.  
> Author: lifehappenedtome  
> Prompter: twinkifer
> 
> Big thanks to [TomiSama04](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesFromPerdition), [motivedestiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/motivedestiel) and some of my friends for reading through the fic and telling me their thoughts.

Sam was sitting with his books spread over the floor in what was currently their living room, studying mathematics. Well, at least math was what he originally wanted to work on. Instead, he was drawing little doodles inspired by funny looking graphs.

It wasn’t like he needed to study anyway. His grades were good; he understood everything and was even starting to get bored in school. It was his last year of middle school and after summer vacation, he would be attending high school. But he still had a few months to go. A few months and God knows how many schools. Due to their father’s job, they were constantly moving around. Sam wasn’t shy but it was kind of hard to make friends when he was never staying anywhere for at least half a year. That left Sam focusing on his education. However, he was a smart kid by nature and didn’t exactly _need_ to study much. There was just nothing else to do.

Dean didn’t seem to mind their lifestyle. Whenever Sam brought it up, he got all grumpy and told him that their dad was doing his best and that he shouldn’t complain. Granted, he was a lot better at getting along with his classmates. It was usually girls he brought home. Sam never saw any of them again after their first visit.

There was no girl now, though. Dean was sitting in front of the TV, watching a Japanese animated show about giant robots that could transform into vehicles. Sam didn’t get his fascination with it, but then again he didn’t really get any of the things Dean was passionate about. He had tried talking to him, but was immediately shushed with a whispered “Look at Megatron’s weapon! This is classic, Sammy, better than the movie!”

So, no talking for today. And drawing doodles were soon getting boring, too. Sam looked out of the window. The weather was typical for April: It had been sunny for most of the morning but now it was pouring down. He only wished he had taken advantage of the weather earlier. After he closed his books and stood up from the old sofa, he grabbed his raincoat and a waterproof bag.

“Where you goin’?” Dean didn’t look up from the TV.

“Out.” He didn’t even know. Maybe he could go to the mall, but he had little to no money. Or maybe he would go to the library. Yes, the library sounded good. A small smile formed on his lips.

When he opened the door, Dean gave him a muffled, “Don’t talk to strangers.” Sam waved him goodbye and shut the door behind him. It wasn’t like anyone would like to talk to him, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 The streets were mostly empty and so was the bus station. People didn’t like to go out on rainy days. Sam couldn’t blame them. Despite the raincoat, most of his clothes were soaking wet and his bangs, which weren’t covered by the hood, were sticking to his forehead. He was freezing and only hoped for the bus to come in a few minutes.

There was only one other person sitting at the bus stop. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, nor did he have an umbrella, but his hair and clothes were completely dry. Sam wondered if he had been under the shelter since before it had started to rain. The thought didn’t seem as odd as it should, which was probably because of the way the stranger sat there, motionless like a statue. Sam hadn’t realized he’d been staring at him until the man suddenly tilted his head and looked back at him.

He felt the heat crawling up his stomach with a feeling of uneasiness, until it reached his face and most likely made him blush. Sam wanted to look away, not only because he was being impolite, but his gaze was fixed on the ice-cold blue piercing through him. His mouth opened in an attempt to apologize but before the words could come out, the older man was already looking away again. Sam let out a breath.

It was only then that he noticed that something was off about the stranger’s face. His temples and forehead were covered with what looked like burns – but unusual burns, as if he were burning from the inside rather than from having burned his skin externally. Sam had never seen anything like it, and it only caused him to stare even more. He wasn’t afraid of the man and didn’t think he was weird. He just seemed different and anything different, to Sam, was interesting.

The mysterious man didn’t look at him again, though, and when the bus finally came, Sam rushed to the back door, attempting to avoid the bus driver. It didn’t open. He sighed and went after the stranger to the front. The man had already bought a ticket and the bus driver was now looking at Sam expectantly. He searched his pockets, fumbling with the few pennies he had left. It wasn’t enough. He couldn’t afford a ticket, and he was already turning around to leave and walk to town through the rain when he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from leaving the bus.

“Another ticket to town, please.” The voice was calm and cold, and maybe just a little bit dangerous. Sam looked up at his savior with wide eyes. There was a trace of a smile on the man’s face. The bus driver muffled something disapproving but took the money the stranger held out to him and handed Sam the ticket.

The hand was still resting on his shoulders and Sam didn’t mind that the nice man was following him to take a seat beside him, only withdrawing his hand when they both sat down. Sam was tense, unsure about how to act towards him. He gathered all his courage and turned to face him.

“Thank you, Sir.”

There was the small smile again. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Sam returned the smile. “How did you know I was going to town?”

The man regarded him with a playful expression. “Where else would a bright young man like you want to go?”

Sam nodded. That made sense. Most young people went to town on Saturdays, after all. And he was a bit proud to be called a _bright young man_. “I’m going to the library,” he told him, although he hadn’t asked.

Apparently, the statement met with approval. The stranger tilted his head and looked at Sam with interest in his eyes. “You like books?” Sam nodded. “What are you looking for, then?”

‘Something to read,’ Sam thought sarcastically but didn’t voice it. He thought about that question and found that his initial thoughts were, in a way, true. He didn’t care much what to read. As long as it was paper with letters, Sam would find something interesting about it. He wondered what kind of books his new friend liked and finally came up with a satisfying answer. “I’ll know what I’m looking for once I’ve found it.”

He was looked at for a long moment and just when he wanted to ask if he said something wrong, the man said, “That’s very wise. You’re not a person to judge a book by its cover, are you?”

Sam shook his head and they sat silently for a while. “I’m Sam,” he said when he turned to look at him again. “You can call me Sammy,” he added with a smile. The expression on the older man’s face disturbed Sam a bit. There wasn’t the slightest bit of surprise one usually saw in a person’s face when they were told new information. He looked too sure of himself, as if to say ‘I know’. It sent a chill down Sam’s spine.

“Hello, Sammy. I’m Lucifer.”

 

* * *

 

 Sam had asked Lucifer to accompany him, and Lucifer had agreed. They were at the library, browsing through books of all genres. Reading children’s books aloud had made them both laugh, and they were just walking towards the classic poetry section when Sam shivered.

“You’re cold,” Lucifer stated, frowning.

Sam smiled awkwardly. “My clothes are wet,” he explained.

Lucifer’s frown intensified. He slowly moved towards him, giving Sam enough time to back off in case he didn’t want the contact. When Sam remained still, he removed Sam’s coat and the unbottoned button-down shirt underneath, exchanging it for his own.

“Uh… no,” Sam protested, refusing to put on the dry shirt. “You’ll be cold!”

Lucifer shook his head and folded his arms. “I’m fine. Take it, please.” Reluctantly, Sam got into the dark blue shirt and was immediately feeling better. It was warm and comfortable, if a bit too big for him.

“Thank you…” Sam was blushing but Lucifer only smiled at him and turned towards the bookshelf, still holding the wet clothes. He had caught sight of a book he was interested in and was now looking at it with a frown on his face. Despite that he was only wearing a plain T-shirt, he looked fairly intellectual.

Sam really didn’t know why Dean didn’t want him to talk to strangers. Lucifer was being so nice, and they really had a great time. Sam had talked to him about practically every book he liked and Lucifer knew them all. It was like he had read every book the library could offer; he commented on almost every title Sam drew from the shelves.

Right now, he was holding an old book, skimming through it with a serious expression. Sam shifted a bit to read the title. “ _Paradise Lost_.” He frowned. “Isn’t that the epic poem about the fallen angel Lucifer who rebels against Heaven?” Lucifer nodded, not looking away from the pages. “Are you named after him?”

That made Lucifer abandon the book, and he carefully put it back to the shelf before smiling at Sam. “In a way...” He looked at Sam for a while, apparently trying to decide whether or not to say something. “Do you sympathize with him?”

Sam thought about that. He felt like this was an important question and he didn’t want to upset his new friend by saying anything wrong. “I think…” he started, staring at the book, “he’s some kind of anti- hero. He’s not truly evil, right? He thinks what he does is the right thing.” Sam shrugged. “I think he only wants to be free to be himself.”

When Lucifer only looked at him with something that could be described as affection, Sam laughed nervously. “I only read parts of it, though, so I’m not an expert.”

Lucifer just smiled. “No, it’s fine.”

They kept browsing through all kinds of books for hours and eventually Sam’s stomach started to growl. He shifted uncomfortably. Lucifer frowned at the source of the growling with a worried face, like he was overchallenged with the situation. Sam coughed. “I should probably go.” He didn’t want to go just yet. It was still light outside and he would like to spend some more time with Lucifer, but he was really hungry and still had no money.

“I can buy you something to eat.” Lucifer looked down at him expressionless. This way, his eyes were always a little bit closed and somehow, Sam liked that.

He hesitated. “You already paid for my bus ticket.” Lucifer just shrugged and Sam decided that it was okay to eat with Lucifer as long as it meant that he got to spend some more time with him. “Okay then.” Lucifer was already getting ready to leave when Sam realized he had forgotten something. “Wait here,” he told him and hurried back to the poetry section. _Paradise Lost_ was bound in leather and Sam traced the engravings with his fingertips before taking the book to the inquiry desk to borrow it. He carefully put it into his bag and rushed back to Lucifer. Sam paused for a second, weighing up whether it was an inappropriate gesture, but he was finally joyfully holding out a hand to him. The older man regarded it for a second of surprise and took it.

“You borrowed it?” The smile on Lucifer’s face was the brightest one Sam had seen on him so far, though it was still a small smile compared to other people.

“Yeah” He nodded. “I want to read it again, this time from the start.” Lucifer affectionately squeezed his hand. Sam was sure who would be his favorite character.

 

* * *

 

 “Uh, these are so good!”

Lucifer laughed as he watched Sam close his eyes and moan quietly at the deliciousness. “You like burgers?”

“Occasionally. I like salad and vegetables, too, but sometimes I…” The rest of the sentence got lost in Sam’s munching. They were having a good time in the diner, although Lucifer refused to eat anything. “You sure you don’t want to try it?” Sam held the burger out to him.

“Nah, thank you.” Lucifer smiled and just continued watching Sam. It was only a little bit creepy. Sam, in return, studied Lucifer’s face. The burns caught his eye again. He didn’t know if it was already okay to ask but the question had been on the tip of his tongue for the whole day and his curiousness outweighed his discretion.

“Lucifer?” Questioning blue eyes met his. “What’s… what’s with your face?” That sounded rude. “I mean, the burns...”

Lucifer moved his lips from side to side, deliberating. With a distant voice, he said, “Oh, you’ll know, Sammy.” That was rather a strange answer, but Sam didn’t ask again. It wasn’t really his business anyway.

They sat at the diner and talked long after Sam had finished his burger. Sometimes people would give them weird looks, when Sam took Lucifer’s hand or when they were staring at each other for too long. Sam didn’t care. After all, he was happy listening to Lucifer, who was telling him stories about Gods and monsters with a tang of irony as if he was chatting about his neighbors. It was fascinating.

Sam could have sat with him forever but then suddenly, Lucifer pointed to the window. It was already getting dark outside. “Don’t you want to go home?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I don’t want to. But I’ll need to, eventually. Dad is not home today, but Dean… he’s probably already worried.”

Lucifer nodded with closed eyes. “I understand.” He smiled slightly at Sam. “It has been a wonderful day, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam pouted. “I don’t want it to end.” And he didn’t. Though he had only just met Lucifer, it seemed like he’d known him forever. Like there was some kind of connection between them. And never had Sam met someone with the same interest in literature and mythology with whom he could talk about it for hours. It didn’t matter that his new friend was probably twice as old as Sam himself, if not older. He felt like he wanted him to be his best friend.

Lucifer chuckled. “I can take you home if you like.” To which Sam nodded thankfully, and they ended up walking home together because the busses had stopped running for the day.

Though it had stopped raining, there was still a cool breeze. Sam used it as an apology to walk close to Lucifer who protectively put an arm around him. It was only his arm, but for some reason Sam felt like the wind had completely ceased, as if there was something about Lucifer that shielded him from it. It must have been his imagination.

During the whole walk, Sam had never wondered how Lucifer knew the way to his house. It only occurred to him later that this was just another thing to add to the long list of mysterious things about the older man. Maybe Sam didn’t notice at the time because he was busy enjoying their quiet conversation or the way Lucifer’s fingers moved sometimes, softly stroking his shoulder.

The familiar house that Sam refused to call home came in sight far too soon. Sam walked slower to stretch the last few feet but eventually, they stopped at his door. It was silent. “This is where I live,” said Sam, unnecessarily.

Lucifer smiled. “I figured as much.” He looked through the window to where Dean was still (or again) sitting in front of the TV.

“Oh, that’s my brother, Dean. I can introduce you!” Sam dragged at Lucifer’s hand, trying to pull him towards the door. Lucifer was standing still, a small smile on his face.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sammy.” He took Sam’s hand into both his own and pulled it up carefully to put a light kiss on the skin. Sam just stared at him, cheeks flushed. “I will go now. Good night, Sam.” He held his still damp clothes out to him.

Sam acted on instinct. He threw both his arms around Lucifer and hugged him, like a little kid would hug his father one last time before he went on a business trip. “Will you come and visit me?”

Lucifer hugged him back gently. “We will see each other again.” He pulled back, far too soon, and Sam took his clothes. “Now do me a favor and go to sleep, Sammy. It’s late.” Lucifer looked up at the sky. “The morning star is already shining bright.” Sam followed his gaze to where the brightest star was shining through the dark blue night. Dark blue like Lucifer’s shirt, he thought. “Sweet dreams, Sam.” Lucifer was already walking away from him.

“Wait!” Sam shouted. Lucifer, already a few steps away, turned back and looked at him. “Your shirt!” Sam was starting to take it off but Lucifer stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Nah, keep it.” He winked at Sam and a second later he was walking down the street. Sam stared at him until he couldn’t see him anymore, and even then he refused to go back inside.

“Sammy?”

His brother was standing at the door. His voice was harsh. Dean was angry. Sam went inside the house without a word and took in everything Dean shouted at him. “What’ve you been thinking, Sammy? I was worried! Do you have any idea what dad would say if he came home this late and you weren’t anywhere to be found?” He slammed the door shut.”How long ’ve you been gone, eight hours? Nine?”

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are!” Dean looked down at Lucifer’s shirt. “Where’d you get that?”

“It’s a gift,” Sam said truthfully. “From a friend.” He fumbled with the long sleeves.

Dean snored. “Yeah, he a freakin’ giant?” Sam gave him his best bitchface and tried walking past him but Dean stopped him, gripping his arm. “Hey, did you get this from some random guy?”

Sam wrested himself free and snapped at him. “I already told you it’s from a friend!” And with that, he ran up the stairs and into his room. He heard Dean swear and shout after him: “I told you not to talk to strangers, Sammy! Never talk to strangers!”

Dean was a douchebag. There was absolutely no reason not to talk to strangers. This day with Lucifer had been his best day since months, and the former stranger would soon become his best friend, Sam was sure of it.

He laid down on his bed and started to read _Paradise Lost_. And if he sniffed Lucifer’s shirt every once in a while, well, who could blame him?

 

* * *

  

He had lied. Lucifer had lied to him. Sam’s mood had been good the following day; he spent the whole rest of the weekend reading and marking his favorite Lucifer quotes. Now that he was opening up to the possibility of being on Satan’s side, he actually found that Lucifer was far more convincing than God. Dean hadn’t asked. It wasn’t unusual for Sam to spend whole days in his room with only a book to keep him company, and this time he almost felt like there was someone with him.

The following days when he went to school again had been nice, too. He had spent his lessons making a list of which books Lucifer had been very fond of so he could go to the library later and check them out. Lucifer’s shirt was his new favorite. Sam wore it practically every day until Dean mocked him about how it made him look even more rundown than he looked anyway. But even when he didn’t take the shirt to school anymore, he still wore it in his room and used it as a pillow when he went to sleep.

So even though Sam had felt like a creeper – or worse, a lovestruck teenage girl – at times, the first week of missing Lucifer had been okay. Then came Saturday, and yeah, Sam had expected him to show up and go to a book store with him or visit a museum. But no one showed up, and when Sam finished _Paradise Lost_ , he didn’t know what to do with his life anymore.

Even when his dad came home, Sam still wasn’t over it. He had to stop wearing the shirt at home now too, of course, but he secretly kept thinking about Lucifer.

It was ridiculous, missing an older man so much, but Sam had felt so completed when he had been with him that now, retrospectively, he couldn’t understand how he had been able to live as a single half for his whole life. Something was missing now, and maybe it always had been and he just hadn’t realized it until now.

The days went on and on and there was no sign from Lucifer.

 

* * *

 

“Boys, pack your things. Tomorrow, we’re moving out.”

Sam stared at his father, mouth open. Move out? Now? That would mean…

He stood up from the table and ran up the stairs into his room and slammed the door shut behind him. To make sure neither Dean nor his dad would come in, he locked it and fiddled with the key so they wouldn’t be able to break the lock – just in case. They wouldn’t worry too much – Sam had always been angry with them whenever John announced they would move again – but he wanted to be alone now.

So this was it. He wouldn’t see Lucifer again. Maybe next Saturday, Lucifer would come to this house to visit him, but Sam would be long gone. He had to take a deep breath so that he wouldn’t start crying like a baby.

Sam fell onto his bed exhaustedly. He pulled out a candle from his nightstand and put it on top of it, lighting it with a match. The sight of the flame calmed him. He had lit the candle previously when he had felt miserable. It was like his bearer of hope. He sighed and put on the dark blue shirt. It didn’t smell like Lucifer anymore.

In the dim light of the flame, Sam opened _Paradise Lost_ and reread his favorite parts which he had carefully marked with a pencil, light enough to be erased before he had to return the book again. Only that he now thought about keeping it. Would he go to hell for stealing a book from a library? If so, would Lucifer be there?

His thoughts became more and more absurd as he felt his eyelids get heavy, and he soon fell asleep with the book still resting in his hands.

 

* * *

 

 “Sammy!”

Sam moaned. He didn’t want to get up. It was nice and warm, and although it smelled a bit weird, Sam was too tired to open his eyes just yet. And that voice… He knew that voice.

“Come on, Sam. Wake up!”

He definitely knew that voice. Sam sat up immediately, eyes wide opened. What he saw was more than he could take. The whole room was on fire, flames licking at his every possession, and in the center of it was the book he valued most in the world, completely ablaze.

“No!” Sam screamed and jumped to his feet, trying to somehow save the book, but someone hold him back. He looked up into the ice-cold blue, a hard contrast to the burning room. “Lucifer,” he whispered. “How…?” Lucifer smiled at him.

Someone hammered against his door. “Sammy?! You in there?” It was Dean. “Open the god damn door!” Sam finally looked away from Lucifer and hurried to the door, trying to turn the key. It didn’t move an inch. He coughed, smoke poisoning his lungs.

“It’s stuck,” he breathed out with a hoarse voice. Panic was rising in his chest. He turned to face Lucifer. “What are we going to do?” His eyes were wide in shock and he couldn’t believe how calm the other man remained. “We’re going to die!” Sam shook Lucifer’s body, desperate for him to _do_ something.

“There’s a lot of evil in the world, Sam. Do not fear the flames when hell is what awaits you.” Sam stared at him. What was he talking about? Was this really the time to speak in riddles?

Slam. “Sam, who are you talking to?” Slam. Apparently, Dean was trying to break the door. Sam heard him cough. “I’m gonna get you out of there but if the door doesn’t open, you gotta jump!”

Sam tensed. Jumping from the second floor wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. But what else could they do? While he was arguing with himself, Lucifer was already leading him towards the window. As he opened it, the flames were only shooting up higher.

Lucifer held out a hand for Sam to steady himself while climbing onto the roof. Sam looked at him one more time before he moved, and again when he stood on the rooftop with shaky legs. “Are you gonna jump with me?”

“Sure, Sammy.” Lucifer climbed after him, standing right behind Sam. He was holding Sam around the waist and whispered soothing words into his ear.

Sam looked down in horror and shouted towards the door, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “Dean? I’m gonna- I’m gonna jump.”

The slamming stopped. “Hold on, Sammy!” He heard Dean running along the hallway and down the stairs, all while talking into his phone. “Hello? There is a fire…” His voice became more distant and Sam took a deep breath. His heart was pounding in his chest and his legs were still shaking. He couldn’t do this.

“Close your eyes,” Lucifer whispered. Sam did as he was told and prepared himself to fall and crash to the ground. What happened instead could only be described as… flying. Not in the literal sense. There were no spread wings and there certainly wasn’t any kind of flapping, but when he landed softly on the ground it didn’t feel like he had been falling at all. He smiled, opened his eyes and turned around to look for Lucifer but his smile faded quickly as he realized he was the only person standing in front of the house.

“Lucifer?” His eyes were darting around, desperately searching for any sign of the man who had just saved his life. “Lucifer!” Sheer panic overcame him. This time, he couldn’t hold back the tears building up and streaming down his face. ”Lucifer!” As he ran back to the front door, he crashed into Dean who was hugging him tightly.

“Thank God, Sammy!” But Sam wasn’t in the mood to thank God. He shoved his brother away and ran up the stairs. “Lucifer!” He was crying and sobbing, and his brother cursed as he went after him.

“Who’s Lucifer, Sam?” Dean laid a hand on his shoulder while Sam was rattling at the door, weakly kicking the wood. Apparently, the fire hadn’t left his room yet but the thick smoke was already creeping through the gaps around the door.

“Lucifer! He- He was there. He saved me!” Sam sank to the floor and cried noisily. Lucifer had saved him. Why hadn’t he saved himself?

“Calm down, Sammy.” Dean knelt down beside him and patted his pack. “There was no one. How could he have broken into your room? The door was locked and your room’s in the second floor.” He sighed. “You saved yourself, Sam.”

Sam shook his head persistently. “That’s not true! He was there!” But he was slowly realizing how stupid it must sound. Dean had a point. How could Lucifer have gotten into his room in the middle of the night, not to mention exactly on the night he was almost dying in a fire. Maybe the smoke had damaged his brain and he had been hallucinating him. But the rooftop… He couldn’t possibly have imagined that.

“The hell is goin’ on ‘ere?” John Winchester burst out of his room. He was drunk.

“There’s a fire, Sir. I already called the fire department,” Dean shouted loud and clearly. Then, calmer: “Come on, Sam.” He forced him to stand up and together they went outside again while their father was cursing and beating against the walls.

When they sat on the ground in front of the house, Sam hugged Dean around the neck and kept crying on his shoulder. Dean held him, silently comforting him. Teardrops were spread on both Dean’s shirt and the sleeve of Lucifer’s shirt. The last thing Sam had to remind him of the mysterious man.

Dean had been right. One should never talk to strangers. Because if you do, you might grow to like them. And they might disappear out of your life again before you ever even had the chance to get to know them.


End file.
